


One Love, Two Mouths

by anja_c



Series: anja's drunk shenanigans [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, I promise, POV switch, Vaguely Smutty, actually very light despite what the summary might have you believe, bc he's an idiot, bc i'll never actually write smut, bc my drunk writing is a lil inconsistent, bellamy is injured, but its good, clarke is tired™️, ngl, set during season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 17:03:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19213756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anja_c/pseuds/anja_c
Summary: She stares at this boy in front of her. This boy who, a few weeks ago, she hadn’t even met, but who now understands her better than she thinks anyone in the world does.





	One Love, Two Mouths

**Author's Note:**

> what up my friends. im a little tipsy rn and hella bored (also i finished my last exam today, yay!) so i wrote this instead of working on Your Home Is With Me sorrrrryyyyyyy xx
> 
> i just feel real nostalgic for s1 and the whole vibe of it so i wrote a fic set around then but it be hella canon divergent bc like... bellarke actually happens
> 
> title from Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood (p good song and defo fits the vibe of this fic imo)

Clarke is just about dead on her feet, she feels like she hasn’t sat down in over a week. She’s even starting to miss her long days and nights in solitary, when she had no one to talk to, no one to look after. Just as she thinks she might be able to sneak in a quick break, Monty bursts into her tent.

“Finn’s awake,” he tells her.

She rolls her eyes, “tell him to go back to sleep.”

He looks hesitant, “he’s very insistent, he wants to see you.”

She inhales deeply, trying not to shoot the messenger. “Lead the way.”

When she walks in, Finn is lying on his bed with his shirt off and Raven is cooing over him. They make a cute couple, she thinks quietly.

“What seems to be the problem?”

Raven looks puzzled, “problem?” She looks to Finn who doesn’t meet her eyes.

“I… uh…” he trails off.

“If there’s nothing wrong, I’d really like to get a minute’s peace so speak up now or I’m going.”

He searches frantically for a medical emergency to make up, “my wound, it’s burning.”

Raven immediately leans over him, brushing the hair out of his face. “You didn’t tell me that,” she scolds softly.

“Yeah, I, uh, I didn’t want to worry you.”

Clarke forces herself not to scream, “let me have a look.” She pushes Raven to the side a little too harshly, the other girl protests but allows her to work. Clarke peeks under the bandage, searching for any signs of infection.

“No pus,” she observes, “nor any swelling or redness. Really, it seems to be healing quite nicely, better than I expected even.”

“Well then why does it sting so much?”

 _Probably because you’re a big fat baby_ , she thinks to herself. She doesn’t say it though. “Probably because you got stabbed, and I guess the moonshine must be doing its job and keeping your wound clean.”

“That’s good,” Raven smiles.

And as tired as she is, Clarke can’t help but smile back. “It is.”

“Hey, Princess?” Bellamy’s head pokes in and Clarke also can’t help the growl that escapes her lips. “Wow, ok.”

“What do you want, Bellamy?” she snaps.

He shrugs, “was just wondering if you felt like talking a walk down to the supply bunker, we need more blankets so I thought you and I could double check if we missed any last time.”

If it were any other day, she’d honestly probably say yes, but today… today, she’s just too damn tired to put up with Bellamy’s coy smiles and  flirting-but-not-really-flirting comments – you’re either in or you’re out, she thinks.

“Actually,” she grinds out, “I _don’t_ really feel like it. What I do feel like, is a damn moment to myself without having six people at once all hounding me!” She doesn’t mean to snap at Bellamy, she really doesn’t, she just feels like she can let her guard down with him. The half-pained, half-guilty look on his face makes her regret everything though.

“Sorry…” he steps outside and Clarke follows him.

“Bellamy, no, wait. _I’m_ sorry.”

He shakes his head, “don’t be, you’re right. You deserve a break. I’ll take Miller.”

“You sure?” Deep down, she hopes that he’ll say no, that he’ll tell her he just wants to go with her. But he doesn’t.

“Yeah.”

And with that, he walks off. Clarke guesses she should be grateful, she finally gets that break she’s been wanting after all, but something feels off.

She trudges back to her tent grumpily, scaring off everyone who moves to speak to her. Well, everyone except-

“Clarke!” Jasper waves her over. She stops, centring herself before turning around with the fakest of smiles.

“Yeah?”

“We need your help!” The dreaded four words.

“What is it?”

She walks over to find a kid she recognises but can’t quite place. He’s face down in the mud, red spilling from his arm. Jasper frantically explains that the kid – Myles, she finds out – slipped whilst cutting wood and nearly chopped his own arm off. She doesn’t know why he was on wood cutting in the first place, the axe is almost as big as him.

After a gruelling two hours sewing the poor kid’s arm back together, Clarke feels just about ready to pass out. She walks Myles back to his tent and settles him, telling him to find her if it starts to get red or pussy, desperately hoping it doesn’t because she doesn’t think she can deal with any more injuries today.

She finally gets back to her tent, just about to crash, when she hears a commotion at the front gate.

“It’s Miller and Bellamy!” someone yells.

“He’s hurt!” cries another and Clarke pales.

“Dude, what happened?”

She hears Miller explain calmly but she’s not really listening, she’s already rushing back outside.

“No,” Bellamy protests vehemently, “she needs a break.”

“Bellamy,” Miller begs, “you can’t even walk! We need to get Clarke!”

“She’s so tired, she doesn’t need to put up with my shit.”

“I’m getting Clarke,” Miller tells him forcefully.

“I’m here,” she announces as he and two other guys carry Bellamy into the drop ship and place him on the bench she’d only just sterilised after Myles.

“No,” Bellamy swats her away, clearly very out of it, “go rest.”

Her voice is stern and unrelenting, “Bellamy, I need to look at your injuries. What happened?” she addresses Miller.

He runs his hand through his hair, “he was fine one minute and then he tripped and hit his head and he passed out and then he came to but he keeps fading in and out.”

She nods, turning back to the man in question. “Ok,” she speaks in the soft voice that she uses for her patients, “ok, I need you to do something for me, Bellamy. Can you stay awake for me?” He nods and she smiles. “Good.” Clarke pulls a chair over and sits next to him.

She looks at his head, realising there’s not much she can do about it but monitor his condition, and sets off to look at his other injuries. He’s at least sprained his ankle and definitely cut his hand on the way down.

“When the king falls, he falls hard,” she murmurs and he gives a laugh. She quickly wraps his hand, pouring a little moonshine on it and doing her best to block out his wince. “Ok, I’m gonna take a look at that ankle now.” He nods reluctantly, propping his leg up on her lap. The swelling is enough to have her concerned but the dark, purple bruising is just alarming her even more.

“What is it?” he asks. How can he always see right through her?

“I think it might be dislocated,” she informs him.

“Ok… so why do you look so worried.”

She grimaces, “I’m going to have to re-set it, this isn’t going to be pleasant.”

Miller looks like he’s about to be sick, “I don’t think I can be here for this.” He and the other two boys leave and it’s suddenly just Clarke and Bellamy.

“Ok,” she does her best to smile, ignoring the dizziness that hits her as she stands up, “you ready?”

He nods, “as I’ll ever be.”

“One.” She makes a quick manoeuvre, catching him off guard. He lets out a litany of swears that continue on for a good minute.

“Fuck knuckle, shit biscuits!” he finishes.

She smirks, “wasn’t so bad, was it?”

He smiles back weakly and without thinking, she reaches out her hand to rub his arm reassuringly. He welcomes the gesture and Clarke blames the exhaustion both of them are feeling. Speaking of, Clarke’s sure she’s about to pass out, she’s never gone this long without sleeping. Her head pounds as she strains to remember the last time she got a good night’s sleep. At least eight days ago.

He notices it, “hey, go sleep. You need it.”

As much as she wishes she could, she knows she has a job to do. “What I _need_ is to monitor your condition.”

He shakes his head forcefully, “no, you shouldn’t have to look after me. It’s my fault I got hurt.”

“It’s not though,” she sighs, “if I’d just gone with you-”

“I’d still have fallen, and you’d probably have already passed out from exhaustion.” She can’t help but feel he’s right. “And then I’d just be worrying about you and it’d be a whole big mess.” She laughs at that.

“C’mon, I may not be able to sleep just yet, but you should.” She helps him up, walking him back to his tent.

He puzzles when she walks in with him, “you propositioning me, Princess? Cus, believe me, any other night I’d say yes but I don’t think I could give you my all tonight,” he smirks, and she rolls her eyes.

“No, idiot, I just need to make sure you don’t die in your sleep.”

He pouts, “shame.”

“Alright, lay down please.”

“As you wish,” he grins, lying on the bed and patting next to him, “come sit.”

She laughs, “I think I’m good here.” She crosses her legs, sitting a good foot away from his cot. It’s a safe distance, she thinks, close enough that he won’t think it’s weird but far enough that she doesn’t have to think about the way his nose scrunches when he’s thinking or the dusting of freckles across his face that’s only really visible in the right light. Well, that’s the plan. But if she’s being honest with herself, those thoughts will come to her whether she’s one foot away, or one mile.

His voice brakes her out of her thoughts, “I bet you just like watching me sleep.” He’s starting to drift off.

“Busted,” she jokes.

She grins inwardly, gently pulling his covers over him. In a moment of fondness, she reaches out and brushes a lock of his brown curls out of his eyes, she gives a soft laugh however, when it just bounces back to its original spot. She tries several times – unsuccessfully – to get it to stay, after a while, her hand snakes up and her fingers glide through the rest of his hair.

“You playing with my hair?” Bellamy grins, eyes still closed.

Clarke gulps, she thought he was asleep. “No…” she trails off. “Maybe… Yes,” she finally admits.

He smirks, “just couldn’t resist, could ya?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Bellamy Blake,” she whispers.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

This time he really does fall asleep, Clarke waits almost half an hour before stretching her hand out again and running her fingers through his thick curls. His words echo through her mind, _just couldn’t resist_.

\---

When she wakes up again, she feels like she’s had the best night’s sleep of her life. She’s surprisingly warm, and her arms are thrown around the body lying next to her. That’s when she registers it, the body lying next to her is Bellamy, Clarke fell asleep with him. She tries her best to untangle her legs from his, ignoring the way her head seems to rest perfectly on his chest.

“Morning, Princess,” Bellamy stirs and Clarke curses herself internally, not only did she fall asleep curled up next to Bellamy, but he’s woken up and found out.

She clears her throat, “uh, morning.”

“Good night’s sleep?” he asks with mock-innocence.

“Terrible actually,” she smirks.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you snore like a hog,” she remarks, shoving her hands against his bare chest and sitting up. _When the fuck did he take his shirt off,_ she wonders.

He slaps his hand to his heart, feigning offense, “you wound me,” he cries overdramatically.

She scoffs, “oh, alright. C’mon, sit up, I need to check that bump on your head.”

He does as instructed and her hands tentatively reach up to run over the lump that she discovered. She swallows, praying that it has gone done since she last checked it. But Clarke isn’t religious, the bump has almost doubled in size. This is bad.

He grimaces, “I know that look.”

She looks away, not letting him see the fear in her eyes. “It’s nothing, just a little bump.”

“You sure?”

She nods, still not making eye contact.

“Hey,” he reaches an arm out and tucks his hand under her chin. He tilts her head to face him and she lets him. “What is it, really?”

She swallows again, “it’s bad, Bellamy.”

He nods, “ok, so what do you want to do about it?”

She breaks down, “I don’t know, ok! Everyone keeps asking me what I’m doing but I don’t know!”

“I know,” he soothes, “I’m sorry. I get it.”

And the thing is, she thinks, he really does. She stares at this boy in front of her. This boy who, a few weeks ago, she hadn’t even met, but who now understands her better than she thinks anyone in the world does.

Without really registering what she’s doing, Clarke leans down and crashes her lips against Bellamy’s. He’s surprised at first and Clarke thinks she’s made a mistake, her mind eases though, when his mouth yields to hers. His lips part and he lets out a small groan as she swings her leg over, straddling him.

“Wait,” he whispers between kisses, “you’re sleep deprived and emotionally vulnerable right now.”

“And you have a head injury,” she counters, grinding against him.

He wants to continue, he really does, but he’s already done the whole ‘sex-because-I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-my-feelings’ thing with Raven and that didn’t go so well. But Clarke isn’t Raven – which is all the more reason to stop before this goes too far and they do something that she regrets, and then he regrets because she regrets it.

“Stop,” he summons all of his will power and pushes her back gently.

Her brow creases and the guilt on her face breaks his heart, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I just _forced_ myself on yo-”

He cuts her off, “no, no, it’s not that. I want this, I want you.”

She grins shyly, “you do?”

He almost scoffs at the idea that he could possibly not want her, that’s physically impossible. “Yeah, I do,” he smiles back and she bites her lip. He shakes his head slightly, “but like I said, you’re emotionally vulnerable and I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Bellamy,” she sighs, “you’re not. I’m not emotionally vulnerable – or whatever bullshit you’ve told yourself.”

He tilts his head disbelievingly, “really?”

She snorts, “yes, really. Look, am I super tired? Yeah, kinda. Do I wish I could just go to sleep and not wake up for a good week or two? Yeah, definitely. Am I making a rash decision that non-tired me probably wouldn’t make? Yeah, but it’s way too late for that, so just shut up and kiss me, Bellamy Blake.”

Something about the way she says his name lights a fire deep within him and before he knows it, he’s pulling her back down to him and flipping them over so he’s pinning her to his cot.

“This good?” Her moan is enough to let him know it’s more than good.

They spend the next hour wrapped in each other’s fervent embrace, exploring each other more and more. He knows it’s cliché as hell but sleeping with Clarke Griffin is everything he thought it would be and more. Thankfully, she seems to feel the same.

“Oh, god,” she sighs, plopping herself down next to him. They both lie there for a moment, trying desperately to catch their breaths.

He turns to her grinning, “so… we did that…”

She returns his smile, “yeah, we did.”

“Finally,” he remarks and she barks out a laugh.

“Yeah, finally.” She thinks for a moment before smirking, “how long have you wanted to do that?”

“Since I first saw you on the drop ship,” he replies candidly.

“Really?” He nods. “I thought you hated me at first.”

He smirks back, “you can hate someone and still think they’re the hottest damn person you’ve ever seen in your life.”

She chuckles, “oh, yeah?”

He places a trail of kisses along her neck, “oh yeah.” She purrs and he grins. “You like that?”

She nods somewhat desperately and he continues his path, moving further down.

“Oh, shit!” Clarke squeals and pulls the covers up, burying his head. He’s not sure why she’s freaking out until he hears Octavia’s shocked voice.

“What the fuck?” she sounds genuinely confused and he’s silently grateful that she’s not angry.

Clarke miraculously manages to keep her cool. “Uh… hi, Octavia.”

“Um… I was looking for my brother but I guess I can come back.”

And he can’t help it. He calls out, “in here, O!” He winces though as Clarke jabs him, muttering something like _fucking child_.

Then Raven’s voice is filling the tent, “hey, what’s going on? Did you find him?” He assumes she’s addressing Octavia.

And then that asshole Finn is there, saying something about them having to hurry and it’s the last straw for him.

“Oh sure!” he cries, flipping the blanket back and popping out, “invite Finn, let’s just have a fucking party!” He looks back to check on Clarke though, who has managed to throw his t-shirt over herself in a desperate attempt to regain some idea of modesty. He’s glad she did, he can’t bear the thought of that scumbag Finn ever seeing Clarke like that again.

Everyone stares, gobsmacked. No one moves to speak. Until Clarke does, of course. Her voice is stern and a little bitchy if he’s being honest – though he really doesn’t blame her (he feels the same). “Could you just give us a minute to get our _fucking_ pants on and then we can discuss whatever issues have cropped up, thank you very much?”

Everyone slinks out of the tent guiltily and Clarke shakes her head. Bellamy has to keep from bursting out laughing.

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters and he really does laugh this time. She joins in, to his delight and it’s probably the happiest he’s ever been.

“I guess there’s no chance of us hiding this, then?”

She smiles, “I guess not.”

**Author's Note:**

> yeet thanks for sticking with me til the end, hope yall enjoyed that. i should get drunk and write one-shots more often, this was fun.
> 
> also i'm working on Your Home Is With Me, i promise. i've just hit a bit of a roadblock atm but im pushing through. send me words of encouragement in the comments bc i crave attention. (btws lmk if u want me to do more one-shots like this?)
> 
> also also, send me your prompts and i'll write them if i have time. u can send me prompts for any show/book that is in my tumblr bio @ bellarke-trashh  
> idk how to do hyperlinks in notes so just copy paste this into ur browser: https://bellarke-trashh.tumblr.com/


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